My Word Mistress

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like her words
I still remember when she told me, “fuck”
At times she sounds like simple little birds
When chirping words; her words are never stuck
Within the common realm of other sounds
Her words are music to my lonely ears
Her thoughts become her words, where strength abounds
Her noble strength conducts me through my fears
She writes her words in stories I can read
She likes it when I help massage her lines
I like to touch my mistress’ words. I need
To find the place where all our verse combines
My mistress’ words belong within my heart
To keep us close while we are far apart.

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